Growing old…growing colder…

Looking back over the shoulder

To what used to be.

Stuck between youth and age,

Discontent and filled with rage…

Interest is there

But life isn’t fair,

One loses one’s place on the stage.

The things that used to please,

A body’s functioning flees…

With a dance card

Nothing stays hard,

One’s left with a frustrating tease.

Preparing one’s self to lay down,

Give up and melt into the ground…

If time for that

Should be old hat,

Yet not ready to be bound.

There’s life in us still,

It’s all a matter of will…

Endeavoring to strive

And stay alive,

‘Though loss is a bitter pill!

Rememb’ring the people I’ve known,

No more than images I own…

Contorting the way

I wish I could stay,

Yet knowing I’ll soon beĀ Home.

–Jonathan Caswell

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